


What Love Looks Like

by RickylLover



Category: The Walking Dead, The walking dead TV
Genre: Chapter 3 for RWG Bingo spring, Established Rickyl, Judith is Eight, Judith loves her daddies, Judith's POV, M/M, Parent Daryl, Parent Rick, Post ZA, Rickyl Writers' Group, Rickyl Writers' Group Bingo 2016, Rickyl Writers' Group Mini-Challenge, Rickyl Writers' Group challenge, Rickyl family, Rickyl from another POV, because some people are homophobic assholes, protective Judith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickylLover/pseuds/RickylLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judith reflects on her daddies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love

     Sometimes on m' birthday people look at me all sad. Tell me I lost m' mama the day I's born. On account a she died givin' birth ta me. 'N I feel bad 'bout that even though I ain't never known 'er. But I ain't sad. 'Cuz Papa's m' mama, so I ain't lost nothin'.

     Guess 'm turnin' eight t'day. 'Least t'day's the day Daddy an' Papa picked ta celebrate. 'Cuz ain't nobody know fer sure. We's havin' a barbecue at the farm we've taken up. All the family tha's left comin' over. 'N the only two friends I got from school that ain't never made fun a m' daddies. I don't take kindly ta that.

     Auntie Carol's in the kitchen. Heatin' 'er casserole. Abe 'n Rosita's on balloon duty an' I can't but laugh at a big guy like that blowin' pink balloons. 'S so funny I ain't even gonna tell 'im pink ain't m' color. Michonne's slicin' peaches from our tree. Puttin' 'em in a bowl with them wild strawberries Papa picked fer me. Ev'ryone's here. Minglin' in the kitchen. 'Cept Papa 'n Daddy. They's outside. T'gether. Always t'gether.

     They's out skinnin' the meat they got. Well, Papa got an' Daddy were jus' 'long 'cuz they's joined at the hip. They's gettin' the grill ready, too. I like watchin' 'em when they work. The way they stand shoulder ta shoulder. Always brushin' fingers. Papa c'n be gruff when he's gotta be, but he's gentle with Daddy. Like he is with me. Only dif'rnt. There's lotta soft looks an' whispers. I c'n watch 'em like that all day. Daddy's smiles an' Papa's blushin'.

     My legs go numb sometimes hidin'. Watchin' 'em. I know they'd do anythin' fer me an' Carl. Went through a lotta trouble scrapin' t'gether 'nough ta throw me a proper birthday. But, they'd die 'thout eachother. On account a sharin' the same soul.

     "You spyin' again?" Carl catches me. Pullin' m' pigtails.

     'N he's the only one c'n tear me 'way from the crack in the door. Ain't seen 'im fer a whole week. Off on 'is own farm with Lena now. "You came!" I strangle 'im with a hug.

     Carl jus' rolls 'is eyes like Papa does. Sayin', ' _Course I came._ We ain't got 'is blood, but that don't mean we ain't got a lotta Papa in us.

     Lena's in the kitchen with Maggie 'n the women. Talkin' babies an' shit. So's we got us a minute ta watch some more. 'N either Carl likes it, too er he's jus' humorin' me 'cuz 's m' birthday. But, we sit in silence. Watchin' Daddy brush Papa's hair outta his eyes so's he c'n see what he's doin' skewerin' the meat. Papa anticipates Daddy's ev'ry need settin' up the grill 'thout a single word passin' 'tween 'em. 'S sweet.

     "You got a boyfriend yet?" Carl asks me. Him 'n Lena's havin' a baby any day now 'n I guess he thinks I'm b'hind fer m' age er somethin'.

     "Nah," I whisper. Content watchin' Daddy sling 'is arm 'round Papa's broad shoulders. 'N the way they melt inta eachother. " 'M waitin' fer someone special." 'N 's the damn truth.

     Papa's always teachin' me shit. Survival skills. Even though we's rebuildin' things now. Wants me ta be able ta take care a m'self so's I ain't gotta settle fer no one. Kinda think he ain't lettin' me date 'til 'm thirty anyways. Even 'f Daddy'd cave at twenty-five.

     Prob'ly gonna take me that long ta find someone who looks at me like Daddy an' Papa look at eachother. Like they need the other more'n air ta breathe. Someone ta know me like Daddy an' Papa know eachother. C'n read m' eyes like a fav'rite book. Someone who's touch c'n calm 'n comfort like nothin' else in this world.

     People say the world's goin' back ta how it was. B'fore the virus hit. Rebuildin'. Reorganizin'. They's sayin' life'll be perfect 'gain. But I can't think a nothin' better'n bein' with Daddy an' Papa. Watchin' 'em. An' a all them things they done tried ta teach me the most important were one they ain't even know I's learnin'. They's how I learned what love looks like.


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judith reflects on what makes family.

     Carl an' Lena's baby's a bald headed lil' thang. Cryin' 'er fool head off. But, she's family so's I love 'er. Even though I c'n tell she gonna be a real shit. Stubborn. Ain't no one c'n quiet 'er, but Papa. Not even Carl. 'N she got his blood.

     But, Papa's got a way with 'er. Mos' gentle man I know m' Papa. 'Long with Daddy. They's sittin' on the couch. Fawnin' all over that girl. 'N she's cooin' an' smilin' all a sudden. Know's she got 'em wrapped 'round 'er little finger. 'Least she's quiet, though. Thought m' head were gonna fall off if'n she kep' it up.

     'M helpin' Auntie Carol in the kitchen. We's fixin' meals an' thangs fer the week. So's Lena c'n rest up. That girl done 'bout killed 'er comin' out. An' Carl's still in seein' ta her. We's all scared fer 'while. But, 'f Auntie Carol's out here I know 's gonna be okay. Fetched the doctor, but we don't trust him like we do Auntie Carol.

     Got me a mess a Daddy's peas ta shuck. 'S m' fav'rite thang ta do at home with Papa 'n Daddy. Sittin' on the porch. Sippin' the tea Daddy makes in a big jug sittin' in the sun. 'N I's happy ta do it fer Carl 'n Lena. At their kitchen table. 'Specially after Carol stayed in the kitchen an' I knew it weren't jus' somethin' ta keep me busy. Papa says no one c'n shuck peas like me. But, truth be told I know he's better.

     Carol's busy fixin' lunch 'n she don't press me ta talkin'. Guess 'm like Papa that way. Don't talk 'less'n I got somethin' ta say. An' right now 'm jus' tired an' starvin'. Damn kid took 'er time comin' out. Damn near took Lena, too. At first I's mad. 'Cuz I like Lena. 'N she's good fer Carl. Like Papa is fer Daddy.

     But Papa said it weren't her fault. She's jus' a baby. 'N anyway, soon's that brat squeezed m' finger...well, shit. Kinda felt fer the kid. But, I'ma go sit with Lena later. Braid 'er hair like Papa does fer me. 'S a damn mess after suff'rin' that kid.

     Right now I's watchin' Papa 'n Daddy. Sittin' close. Like they's joined at the hip. Papa holdin' the baby an' Daddy holdin' Papa. 'N it makes m' heart ache ta think there's those 'round these parts that think 's wrong what they got t'gether. How c'n love like they got be wrong? They's good people an' good fer eachother. 'N They's both good ta me. 'N I don't care what no one says 'bout it.

     "You should take lunch to Carl and Lena in a bit," Carol wipes 'er hands. Steals a pea I jus' shucked. "Bet they'd like that."

     I jus' nod. Content on watchin ' m' daddies. Huddlin' t'gether. They don't even flinch when the doctor comes outta Carl an' Lena's room. They don't care what no one thinks neither. There's still people ain't gonna trade goods with us on account a it. But, we don't need nothin' from nobody like that. Papa an' Daddy kep' us goin' long b'fore these other people came 'long.

     "She's resting now," the doctor says. If'n Eugene had any livin' realitives that'd claim 'im I'da put m' bet on this guy. Don't talk like 'im, though. 'N I c'n barely hear 'im whisperin' details. Somethin' 'bout the bleedin' stopped an' all that. But, we knew that already er we'da still been keepin' watch in the hall.

     Then he gets louder. Like usin' 'is normal voice 'gain. "I think we're out of the woods." 'Course we's outta the woods. Ain't like we'da left Lena outside ta have the baby. By 'erself. With nothin' but a stick ta bite on fer the pain. 'S that what these people think a us? Then he says ta Papa, "You best be careful with that baby, Daryl, before you go wantin' one of your own."

     M' head's tiltin' ta the side. Right in time with Daddy's. Even though I's in the other room. I wanna give that man a right talkin' ta. Tell 'im family ain't jus' blood. 'S who ya love 'n care fer. Who sits up with ya when ya's sick. Who comforts ya when yer hurt er scared. Who c'n get all them tangles outta yer hair 'thout makin' ya cry. Wanna tell that man Papa's _mine_. Blood 'er not.

     But 's much 's I wanna say it, say I claim Papa, he jus' huffs. Pattin' Daddy's knee. Settlin' 'im. An' seein' that settles me. "I already got two kids a m' own, Doc," he tells 'im. Claimin' _us_. Me 'n Carl. We's _his_. 'N damn 'f that ain't what love looks like.


	3. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judith reflects on the kindness of her daddies.

     Spring in Georgia means heat an' humidity. Sweatin' standin' still. Cicadas clickin' in the grass. Crops comin' in we's gonna haveta put up fer winter. Rabbits an' all kinda game fer trackin'. Means we's gonna have plenty fer tradin'. 'N Papa wants ta find us some parts ta fix the water pump we got in the well 'fore it breaks fer good. Mos' people's willin' ta deal with us. But there's some that ain't.

     The Claussens down the road er some that won't trade with us. On account a Papa 'n Daddy bein' what Mr. Claussen calls a ' _bomination_. Whatever that is. But, I know it ain't good. 'Cuz that man ain't got no love in 'is heart. I seen the marks he put on them kids a his. Like Papa's old man put on him.

     Papa says ta pay 'im no mind ev'ry time the man opens 'is mouth ta us when we's doin' nothin' but walkin' by. 'N Daddy's head always tilts ta the side like when ya shouldn't mess with 'im. But, Daddy don't do nothin' cruel. Er say nothin' cruel. Like them ugly words comin' outta Mr. Claussen.

     I wanna punch the man. Right in 'is hateful mouth. Shut 'im up fer good. But, m' daddies, they's better'n me. All they got's love in their hearts. Who cares they's both men. Ain't hurtin' nobody. Done a damn good job lookin' after me 'n Carl. An' them 'round here that can't look after they selves. Even a asshole like Mr. Claussen.

     At first I's mad we's out huntin' rabbits fer 'em. But, Daddy says Mr. Claussen's sick er somethin'. Ain't able ta provide 'nough fer 'is family. Sick in the head more like it. The way he carries on. Guessin' he loves whiskey more'n that wife 'n kids a his.

     "Think this'll feed 'em fer a bit," Papa shakes the string a squirrels an' rabbits over 'is shoulder as we's walkin' home. Rabbits we spent all day huntin'. I do the spottin', Daddy's so loud clompin' 'round he scares 'em outta the bush, an' Papa takes the shot. We's a good team.

     I don't want that mean man havin' none a this. But, I do feel fer them kids. Comin' ta school in long sleeves in this heat. Ta cover them marks. "Daddy's peas'll be good, too," I add. Jugglin' them jars they done trusted me ta carry. We call 'em Daddy's peas on account a he loves 'em so much. But we's all helpin' with the garden. Jus' like with huntin'. Doin' what we gotta do ta get by. T'gether.

     Daddy smiles. Wipin' the sweat from 'is brow 's we come up ta the Claussen house. Crouchin' down ta m' level. "Yer a good girl, Jude," he pats m' cheek an' I feel guilty 's hell fer not wantin' ta do none a this. Papa ruffles m' hair 'n tugs m' pigtails he spent a hour braidin'. 'N I know 's his way a 'greein' with Daddy. That 'm a good girl.

     "Yer good, Daddy," 'm bitin' m' lip like Papa's always doin'. 'N I feel the tears prickin' at m' eyes. "You an' Papa." An' I wanna say they don't d'serve ta be judged like they been, that they's ev'rythin' good an' kind in this shit world. But, m' throat's closed up so's I can't get no words out.

     Papa's hand's warm on the back a m' neck. Givin' gentle strokes. Makin' m' heart squeeze. "Go on now, Girlie." 'S all he says. With words. 'Cuz his pat ta m' shoulder's sayin',  _proud a ya. Tha's m' girl._

Daddy wipes m' cheeks with 'is thumbs. But, he don't say nothin' 'bout me cryin'. Know's I don't like ta. Jus' presses a kiss ta m' forehead. "Love ya, Baby."

     'N I go trottin' off with m' canned peas an' beans. Kickin' the gravel 's I go. I c'n feel 'em 'hind me. 'Bout three paces. Shadin' me from the hot Georgia sun. 'S much 's I wanna turn 'n run I keep goin'. 'Cuz I know this 's important ta 'em.

     Daddy taps on the back door. Real light. Like some kind a code. 'N Papa lets me sink back inta him. Drawin' strength from 'im.

     We done 'bout gave up when the door finally cracked open an' Mrs. Claussen peeked out. All pale. Like she ain't allowed outta the house. "Evenin'," she croaked. 'N hers 's a voice used ta not bein' heard.

     "Evenin'," Daddy dips 'is head. "We, uh..." He makes 'is voice soft. Like he's talkin' ta a lost kid er somethin'. "We heard Mr. Claussen's laid up an'..."

     She looks a fright. Eyes wide. "Just 'cuz my husband ain't up and about, don't mean he ain't gonna find out if I trade with ya'll." But it don't sound stern in the slightest.

     "Ain't like that," Papa shifts 'hind me. Slow 'n deliberate. 'N he don't even make that scared woman flinch er slam the door in our faces 's he slides them rabbits off'n 'is shoulder. "Ain't fer trade, jus' thought ya could use this ta feed yer kids," he's tryin' ta appeal ta her. 'N his voice's so low I think I's the only one ta hear it. On account a bein' pressed so close. I's so frozen he gotta lean slowly over me. Layin' our kill at m' feet.

     I take m' cue 'n set them peas an' thangs next ta them rabbits. "These, too, ma'am," I squeak. Papa tol' me ta always call 'em _sir_ an' _ma'am_. 'Specially 'front a Mr. Claussen.

     She jus' closes the door. 'Thout so much's a word. Er takin' the food we offered. Like maybe our stuff ain't good 'nough. Er maybe she jus' ain't never seen kindness. 'M really tryin' ta see 'er through Papa an' Daddy's eyes. But, all I see's the door in m' face.

     "C'mon," Papa tugs m' pigtails. I c'n see the hurt in 'is eyes. Even though I know he don't want me ta. 'N jus' like Daddy did fer me I don't say nothin'. Jus' slip m' hand inta his 's we's walkin' 'way. Takin' Daddy's with m' other.

     We don' get but three er four steps when the door opens 'gain. The runt a the litter come runnin' out. Barefoot. In tatters. Tuggin' on the back a m' shirt 'til I's turned 'round. Kenny's 'is name. 'Bout half m' age. "M-mama says thank you."

     Daddy gives Kenny a full on smile. Gettin' down on 'is knee. Eye ta eye. 'N I c'n tell ain't no one never does that fer the kid. "Kenny," Daddy's careful not ta spook 'im, "ya tell yer mama we'll be back in two days with more."

     Kenny jus' sucks 'is thumb 'n scampers off 's Papa hoists me up on 'is big shoulders fer the walk home. Even though I's too old fer it. Don't think that kid knows what ta make a us. Reckon mos' people don't. But, we ain't too dif'rnt. We's jus' a regular family. Lookin' out fer one 'nother. 'N them that can't look after they selves. 'N damn 'f that ain't what love looks like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. Let me know what you thought.


	4. Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judith reflects on what she's learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers. I haven't added to this one in awhile. I hope you like it. Feel free to share your thoughts or just say hi. <3

     School ain't teach me nothin' I need ta know. Like Papa 'n Daddy do. Ain't none a them word problems in them damn books gonna grow our crops er feed us. Ain't gonna fix our fences. Don't see how it matters which train gets ta Chicago first. On account a I ain't never been there. Ain't never been on no train neither. 'N I don't care anyways.

     Only thing matters 's if'n Daddy's peas gonna come in good this year. If'n Papa c'n get them parts ta keep the well pump workin'. Er if'n Gertie's ever gonna lay eggs er we's jus' gonna haveta have 'er fer dinner.

     I named all a our chickens. Even though Papa said I shouldn't get too 'tached ta 'em. On account a eatin' 'em an' shit. Like t'night we's havin' Mabel. Poor ol' thing. She were gettin' up there in years. 'N Daddy were teasin' that she ain't no spring chicken. An' we gotta eat so's Mabel got the chop. I get all m' names fer 'em from them dumb books I gotta read at school.

     Waste a time. 'Specially when I could be helpin' Papa 'n Daddy with fences er chores. But, Papa says I gotta learn all I c'n learn. So's I c'n make m' way in this world an' all 's gonna be 'gain. 'S important ta him I get chances he ain't never got. So's 's important ta me. Even though I don't like it.

     Don't like homework neither. But, 'long 's I c'n do it at the kitchen table watchin' 'em work on dinner I feel like 'm learnin' somethin'. I like watchin' the way they move. T'gether. Like they's a one mind. Daddy knowin' when Papa needs the hair pushed outta his eyes. Er Papa knowin' when Daddy needs 'is sleeves rolled up. They ain't even gotta speak.

     "You 'bout done with yer schoolwork, Jude?" Daddy's hackin' up carrots like they's pieces a firewood. 'N there's a reason tha's Papa's job.

     Papa takes the knife 'way. The smallest smile tuggin' at the corner a his mouth. An' he finishes the job. Tossin' them carrots inta the pot he got boilin' on the stove. He lets Daddy add spices ta a sauce he got goin' in 'nother one. "Dinner's 'bout ready, Girl," Papa says over 'is shoulder. Keepin' 'is eye on Daddy so's he don't burn 'isself 'gain. "Ya best finish up."

     "I only got readin' left," I close m' book. I been distracted watchin' 'em 'n ain't but read two pages. "Yer still cookin' anyways." I hop off'n m' chair. Slip in 'tween 'em at the stove. Like the runt a the litter pushin' in, Papa's always teasin'.

     "Chicken's 'bout done an' this bit ain't fer us," Papa stirs 'is sauce 'cuz Daddy forgot ta. "This is fer the pot pie 'm sendin' over ta them Claussens." He chewed 'is bottom lip. Took Mabel outta the oven. "So's they get a hot meal t'night."

     Mr. Claussen been sick 'while. 'N he died t'day. Teacher got word ta send all a them Claussen kids home. Bad heart she said. 'N it ain't no s'prise ta me. That man got more hate in 'im 'n I ever seen in anyone. He were a mean ol' man. Beat on all a 'em. 'N he ain't never liked m' daddies lovin' eachother. Even though they go t'gether like they's meant ta.

     I ain't even sad he's gone. Anyway, people died all a the time when I's growin' up. Like m' mama when she had me. An' Auntie Maggie's sister, Beth. Good people. 'N we jus' buried 'em 'n hadda move on. They ain't never got no fanfare like people get now. Like Mr. Claussen gonna get. Whole town gatherin' in the town church.

     "We goin' ta the service?" I buried m' face in Papa's soft belly. Squeezin' 'im. I hate them services. Ev'ryone cryin'. 'N talkin' on an' on like grown ups like ta. 'Bout fond mem'ries an' shit. Comin' out ta show they done cared. Ain't none a 'em cared when them kids show up ta school all black an' blue, though. Don't make no sense. I can't 'magine Mr. Claussen's service lastin' long. Prob'ly ain't nobody got fond mem'ries a him ta rem'nisce 'bout.

     Daddy brushed the hair outta Papa's eyes. "We ain't welcome there." 'N I know he don't jus' mean church. But, anywhere them Claussens is.

     "But, Daddy," I stutter. Ain't got no words. How d'ya make sense a shit like that? People like that? I jus' move ta hug on him now. 'N he seems ta understand what I wish I could say. Strokin' m' mess a hair.

     Papa patted m' back. Pulled out our best casserole dish. Chopped pieces a Mabel an' tossed 'em in. I know he were doin' this fer them left b'hind 'n not that hateful man, but it still makes me sad any Claussen gettin' some a one a our chickens. "We ain't welcome," he huffed, "but that don't mean we ain't gonna pay our respects ta the family."

     Respect's somethin' Mr. Claussen ain't never showed m' daddies. Not even once. But, they's better'n him. 'N they make me wanna be better, too. "C'n I help ya?"

     "Sure can," Papa wiped 'is hands on 'is pants 'fore rufflin' m' hair. "Ya c'n come with us when we take this ta the family." He stirred the whole thing up an' started pressin' biscuit dough on top a it.

     'Course I'll go. That woman 'n 'er kids need ta know somebody cares. Somebody gonna look after 'em. Even 'f 'er husband ain't never. 'N I know we's gonna be huntin' squirrel an' rabbits fer 'em fer 'while. Prob'ly feed 'em better'n Mr. Claussen ever done 'is whole life.

     We ain't got much. But, even when ya ain't got nothin' yerself there's always somethin' ta spare fer those got less'n you. Even 'f 's jus' yer time. Papa 'n Daddy taught me that. 'N we's givin' both ta them Claussens.

     But, one thang I ain't never gonna learn 's how people c'n look at m' daddies an' judge. Er hate. When all they is 's good people. Tryin' ta do good in this screwed up world. 'Cuz, damn 'f that ain't what love looks like.


	5. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judith and her daddies try to pay their respects to the Claussen family after Mr. Claussen's funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you dear MissOctober13 for commenting and inspiring me to get back to this fic. Hope you like this chapter. : )

     It ain't fair how some people get respect in this town no matter what they done. Like Mr. Claussen. Sendin' his kids ta school in sleeves too long fer the weather. Hidin' all kinda bruises. 'N people jus' turned their heads like it ain't their problem. 'Cuz it don't affect them none.

     But, m' daddies lovin' eachother makes some not wanna trade with us. An' ev'ryone gotta get in our face an' have their say on _that_. Like somehow it's any a their damn business. I know 'm still young yet an' I ain't know the way a thangs. But, I ain't never gonna understand how people c'n forgive a man fer beatin' on his kids er killin' a man, yet they ain't got nothin' but hate in their hearts when a man _loves_ 'nother man. Don't make no damn sense.

     Mr. Claussen done killed Toby Wilson. Over a debt he owed. 'N ev'ryone knows it, too. Jus' 'cuz they's both drunk at the time don't excuse it. But, he got off. On account a Toby Wilson done all a his drinkin' in public an' caused trouble in the street. 'Stead a at home, like Mr. Claussen. Ol' bastard got off without so much 's a slap on the wrist. Fer takin' a man's life. But, m' Papa can't take m' daddy's las' name?

     No one ever speaks a the murder. An' tha's what it was. Murder. Ain't no self defense. Toby Wilson's widow done said he were short exactly what he owed an' not no more when they found 'is body. But, that were struck from the record. Whatever that means. All I know's Mr. Claussen were always strikin' things. His kids mos'ly. Even in death, 'parently.

     The whole town got nothin' ta say 'bout that. Even now they's both dead 'n gone. But, they got plenty a words fer us walkin' down the street. Jus' ta pay our respects fer a man don't d'serve it. Whole damn funeral procession dressed in clothes blacker'n the hate in their hearts callin' m' daddies names 'n spittin' 's we walk by.

     "Pay 'em no mind, Girlie," Papa says. Head held high. Shieldin' me from all a them takin' up one side a the street. An' his hand so gentle on the back a m' neck gives me the strength ta hold m' head high, too. 'Cuz I don't care what no one says. 'M proud a m' daddies an' the love they got fer eachother.

     Daddy's got one hand on 'is gun, the other curled 'round Papa's fingers. 'N 's funny how the things that settle me c'n rile others ta harassin' people in the street. "Keep walkin'," he urges. An' I ain't sure 'f he's talkin' ta me er them assholes spittin' on the ground.

     M' hands 's shakin' makin' the lid a the casserole dish rattle an' 's all I c'n do ta not spill Mabel on the ground. With all a them curses. But, she's worth more'n that. Worth more'n a damn Claussen, too. But, I s'pose them kids an' his widow ain't so bad 's he been.

     The procession follows us all the way ta the Claussen home. 'N I hope they ain't gonna harass us all the way ta the door. They ain't brought that widow nothin'. 'Cept their damn hate. But, the hate's fer us. So's I guess we's bringin' that.

     "Fags!" They keep screamin'. I don't even know the meanin' a that word. But, Carl says 's the only "F" word I ain't never ta say. 'N 'f 's anythang 'gainst m' daddies I ain't gonna. Not ever.

     When we get ta the porch Mrs. Claussen come out. 'N 's only then I realize she ain't among the crowd. Ain't gone ta the funeral. "That's far 'nough," she says. Standin' taller'n I ever seen 'er. Kenny clingin' ta her leg an' Betsy b'hind 'er with a shotgun I ain't even known the girl could use. "We don't want yer kind here," Mrs. Claussen ground the words out 's Betsy cocked the rifle.

     The crowd turned on us like they ain't had the guts ta b'fore. Papa snatched me up so fast I almos' spilled the casserole all down 'is chest. I ain't even seen Daddy draw, but he got 'is Python aimed right at 'em. But, the shot that startled the crowd came from Betsy. Straight inta the air.

     M' ears was still ringin' when she cocked it 'gain an' stepped from b'hind 'er mama. Made 'er way through the crowd ta us. "Next shot'll drop anyone a you makes a move 'gainst my friends." She got 'front a us.

     "You're a disgrace," some ol' guy kicked a rock in Mrs. Claussen's direction.

     "I'm a disgrace?" she spoke up. An' her voice sounded ev'ry bit 's quiet 's ya'd expect from one used ta bein' seen an' not heard. "Look at this," she ripped 'er sleeve clean off like Papa wears his shirts. Exposin' bruises an' burns all up her arm. "My husband was a disgrace." She snatched Kenny up. Pushed up his sleeve, too. Showin' the marks he got ta match 's he pouted inta her neck. Hidin'. "And I will not mourn the man who did this."

     "Ya'll are goin' ta hell," the preacher thumped his bible. Like preachers like ta do.

     "You first," Betsy leveled 'er shotgun at 'im. Dared 'im ta make a move.

     Daddy was tiltin' his head ta the side like he does when ya shouldn't fuck with him. Darin' 'em jus' the same. "We're just here ta care for a family in need," he tried ta reason with 'em. But, they ain't havin' it. Still snarlin' an' surroundin' us like a pack a wild dogs.

     " 'S called charity," Papa pressed further inta Daddy's side, squeezin' me tight. "Ain't that in yer book?"

      _Hope, faith an' love. But the greatest of these is love_ , were in there, too. An' a commandment ta love one 'nother. But, I guess they done skipped that part. Sometimes I think people wanna get ta heaven jus' so's they c'n look down on other people.

     "Go on home," Daddy kep' his voice calm. Stepped forward. "This ain't the time ta argue with children around."

     The crowd dispersed. Slowly. Each a them assholes takin' a turn ta curse us an' spit on Daddy's boots.

     Them people c'n tell me 'm goin' ta hell all they want. Don't care where I go. 'Long 's 'm with m' daddies. 'Cuz they's good people. Jus' tryin' ta care fer eachother. An' them that can't. Them people ain't done nothin' fer that woman all these years, but turned a blind eye. M' daddies was bein' kind. Givin'. Even when they ain't got nothin' ta spare. Doin' the right thang. Even when it ain't easy. An' damn 'f that ain't what love looks like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think. Also, if you were waiting for a Chemisty Lesson update, I hope to get that out soon. : )


End file.
